When Men Betray (45 page)

“That's not the problem. The problem is Woody—he won't buy it.”

In unison, Maggie and Micki said, “Why not?”

“It's a great deal,” Micki added.

I stopped short of the conference-room door. “Think about it. Jeff got it right off the bat. Woody's said the same thing from day one. He's always wanted to plead guilty—he wants to die. He's going to be the toughest sell yet.”

Dismayed, Maggie asked, “What are you going to say?”

“I don't know. I never thought we'd get this far.”

Woody was waiting for us, pacing the small room impatiently.

I smiled, “How are you doing?”

“Okay. Look, I let you do your deal. I appreciate all you said. I hope the oilmen get their due, but enough is enough. Tell Marshall and Sam I'm pleading guilty to murder one and want my execution expedited.”

Micki's face fell in disbelief, even though I'd warned her.

I remained quiet, so Woody filled the void.

“You think you know what I discovered, don't you? What you said was true, but there's more, a whole lot more. Now I can tell you. It wasn't just the oil. As for that missing bullet nonsense, that was good, but I know the gun went off in my hand. I didn't mean for it to go off—I thought the safety was on, but it did, and I'm responsible.”

I motioned toward the table, and we both sat down, but he didn't let up for a second.

“So you figured out my clues. I knew you would. I just figured I'd be dead by now, but it doesn't matter—it ends now.”

“No, it doesn't. Nothing ends if you plead guilty. Well-meaning people, like you used to be, will take up your cause and fight the death penalty. They'll appeal your sentence, they'll gather petitions, and they'll drag everything out forever. You'll die of old age before you're executed.”

“Nobody's going to take up my case. I shot a US senator. Maybe a few people will come forward on principle, but they'll fade away. I'm not exactly a poster child for the wrongly accused.”

“Well, they won't execute you next week. Have you thought about what'll happen while you're waiting? Those ‘few people' you discount will go after Sam, just like you did. They'll say he prosecuted you when he should have recused because you went after
him
in the Kent affair. They'll call it a vendetta. They'll take the playbook you created during the Kent affair, refine it, and execute it until Sam's disgraced and beaten. They'll do the same thing to Marshall. They'll say Marshall and Sam were in league together. Ask yourself—if you were on the other side, what would you do to Marshall and Sam? Tell me you wouldn't use it.”

He looked me straight in the eye and said forcefully, “That's a low blow, but I don't buy your argument. Not one bit. I'm the villain here. Period.”

I'd known this wasn't going to be easy. “You want to talk about unfair. What about Russell? What do you think is going to happen to his memory if you're dead or sitting on death row for the rest of your life? Don't think that oil price-fixing, funding terrorists, and everything else you discovered isn't going to come out. Without you to defend him, the wolves will descend on Russell's memory. The legacy you created and want to perpetuate will come crumbling down. His children, who currently go to bed thinking their father was a hero, will live a lifetime of shame.”

Woody relaxed a little. “I never thought I'd see the day when Jack Patterson was arguing on Russell's behalf. Ironic isn't it? You're defending him, and I'm the one who destroyed him.”

“Listen to me. No one knows what Russell said to you in the rotunda, but here's what I think happened: On Tuesday, you faced him with what you knew. He told you you'd have to put a gun to his head to make him forsake his friends and bring them to justice. You took him literally, and when you did, Russell, shocked and frightened, said he'd do whatever you wanted. You eased your finger off the trigger, and the gun went off. That's why you have so much remorse. Russell was going to make it right.”

Woody didn't confirm or deny it, so I went with my instinct. “Russell's dead. You can't change it, but you can stop the killing.”

Woody interrupted. “Killing? What are you talking about?”

“Do you really think that once they find out you're not talking to the authorities, they're going to let me live? Once they realize I have Bea and the journals, do you think my life or hers will be worth a plug nickel? Unless they know you're alive and cooperating with authorities, I'm a dead man.”

Should I say the rest or not?
I knew it was cruel, but it was true.

“Woody, if you don't care about me, think about Beth. She knows everything I know, and she'll probably be next. Isn't Russell's death enough? Your death won't bring him back. What about Angie? Are you really willing to risk her daughter's life?

“That's way below the belt, Jack. You know I couldn't bear for that to happen.”

“I'm sorry, you're right—it isn't fair, but it's real. It's what we're facing.”

I had played upon twenty-five years of guilt and his love for Angie and Beth. I felt like a worm, but I had tried everything else I could think of. I'd known all along that I'd use it if I had to.

His shoulders slumped, he squeezed his eyes shut and just sat there. I waited.

“Okay,” he said at last. “I can't fight you anymore. I'll do what you want.”

I had the answer I needed, but I had to have more. Risking all I had won, I went for broke. “Woody, look at me—please. I've given you lots of reasons not to die, but I don't want to stop there. I want you to have a reason to live. Although you don't think so right now, you have a lot to live for and to look forward to.

“Jerry Maguire
is famous for more than just, ‘Show me the money.' Jerry wants to become ‘the me, that he'd always wanted to be.' In another line Renée Zellweger's character, Dorothy I think her name is, says, ‘I love him for the man he wants to be, and for the man he almost is.' The movie was fiction—but for you, it's real. What you have now is a chance to be what you always wanted to be. You got lost, but you can find yourself again. You're being given an opportunity to get it right. Don't waste this gift. Don't let your life be defined by this tragedy. You once told me you never wanted to be the man out front, but the man in the background—the man behind the throne, giving advice and good counsel. I've proposed you do exactly that with the Justice Department. You can point them in the right direction as they begin to unravel all that you've discovered.

“When you said there's much more to what I found in the journals, you essentially confirmed my theory about ties to terrorists and Iran. Maybe the rest is even worse. Only you know, but whatever it is, here's your chance: From the safety of witness protection, you can save lives. Not just Beth's and mine, but the lives of other innocent people. You can single-handedly change the way the corporate world and politics work. Isn't that the Woody you've always wanted to be?”

He was listening, which was all I could ask for, so I continued.

“Maybe you'll be doing Russell's work after all. Maybe he kept his journal for other reasons—to document how money buys access. Think of what that could mean for his legacy.”

“Come on, Jack. That's pure bullshit. You and I both know Russell wasn't a saint. What else did Dorothy say? ‘You had me at hello.'”

This
was the Woody I knew. “Can I send Micki back upstairs to say we have a tentative deal—that you'll cooperate?” He hesitated, but nodded yes.

I turned to Maggie. “Do you mind going back to Marshall's chambers with Micki? I need a minute here if that's okay.” Micki gave Woody a quick hug, and they left without a word.

Exhausted, Woody quietly asked, “How can you ever forgive me? After so many betrayals, how can you keep coming back?”

“Ah, Woody, there's a little Judas in all of us. Maybe if I hadn't been such a jerk about Russell, you'd have come to me with what you found. I'd have helped you, and Russell would be alive. If I couldn't forgive you, how could I forgive myself? What I can't let you do is give up. Friendship is about tolerance and forgiveness, not about giving up. I may call on you someday.”

“You're going to tell Beth about that night, aren't you?”

“Yeah, it's time.”

“Do you think she'll ever forgive me?” He sounded more afraid than hopeful.

“She's her mother's daughter. If the feds will let her, I bet she'll tell you herself. She loves you, and there's nothing to be forgiven. Russell asked you for a favor. You had no idea what was going to happen. You didn't know where it would lead.”

We were quiet for a while, lost in our own thoughts. I shook it off and told Woody to be thinking about what he'd need to have with him in order to cooperate with the ongoing investigation—if we could pull it off. I'd leave the negotiations about the conditions of protective custody up to Micki. She'd be tougher than I would be.

We embraced, and as I was leaving, he said, “When are you going to tell Beth? I wish I could be there with you.”

“Soon,” I said, “I have one other matter to tend to first … one more distraction.”

I
F WE WERE
lucky tomorrow morning, Micki and Woody would be working together a lot going forward. A lawyer who has helped negotiate a deal like this doesn't just walk away once it's been made. There would be a thousand details requiring a lawyer's skill and presence. Luckily, Woody had enough money to pay for her time. I also expected that Woody would be spending a lot of time in safe houses in the DC area. The prospect of Micki visiting DC brought a smile to my face, but I was getting way ahead of myself. There was no deal yet—far from it.

I met Micki and Maggie downstairs, and Clovis led us from the backdoor of the courthouse to a waiting Suburban. I wondered idly if he'd run out of Tahoes. I asked about Beth. He told me that with the ATF, police, and his own people there, Micki's place had become a regular police academy. For that reason, he'd decided not to move us to a new location tonight, which was actually fine with me.

He said this morning's bomb had been planted under the dashboard and was similar to ones used frequently in the Middle East and Afghanistan. He warned me that the press had now staked out the place. “No throwing the baseball, Jack, unless you want to be on national TV.”

“I'd love to be pitching on national TV, but in Yankee Stadium, not Micki's pasture.”

I asked Micki what had happened after she and Maggie returned to Marshall's chambers.

“When we first got back, Sam's deputies were still all over him. They obviously don't want Sam to agree to anything. They don't want him to give up their limelight. They want to parlay the exposure in a high-profile case into a lucrative law practice or the bench. It's hard to believe, given how they screwed Sam in the first place. I'd think they'd want to go hide.”

“Don't be so hard on them,” I said. “It's human nature to see the video and buy into the most logical explanation. If I hadn't known Woody, I never would have questioned what I'd seen on TV. I rushed Sam into all this before he could see the flaws. His deputies are young and ambitious. Besides, I had one huge advantage.”

“What's that?”

“I was under attack. It's almost funny. If my oil friends had just let me come see Woody and console Helen, I might have been back in DC by now. They couldn't leave well enough alone.”

Maggie shook her head. “You don't get it either. You were
meant
to be here. You're not the only one who asked why Woody shot Russell, but you're the only one who cared enough to find out. Don't sell yourself short, Jack Patterson.”

I hated to stop the post-game analysis, but we didn't have an agreement yet.

“I don't want to be like Sam's deputies and get caught unprepared, so Clovis and I are going to have a chat with Brenda. We'll meet you back at Micki's. Can you please call Helen and fill her in on what's happened? Don't take Bea away from cooking, but when she slows down, start prepping her for tomorrow. Also, we need to talk about what to do if there's no deal. Sorry, no rest for the wicked.”

With a little frown, Maggie asked, “Of course I'll call Helen, but why are you meeting with Brenda? You'll have plenty of time to see her when this thing's over.”

“She talked to Woody for quite a while in the bar after he bought the gun. If Sam suddenly decides to renege on the deal, I have to know what she's going to say about that conversation before I put her on the stand. I think she may remember more than she's let on. I can't ask anyone else to handle this.”

Martin was waiting at the curb in front of the Armitage for Micki and Maggie. I could feel the chill from Maggie's cold shoulder, but she'd have to get over it.